It was no wonder that Sally turned away without speaking. She was afraid to answer; afraid of what she might be led to say. And she would go down to the office and sit looking out of the window and wondering what was to become of Charlie and what she could do about it; wondering what it was that he did in college that it seemed to have such an unfortunate influence on him; wondering whether it would not be better for him, after all, to come out and be made to go to work. She almost decided that it would. Then she remembered that she had not the only word to say about that. There were others who would have something to say and the attempt would raise a storm. Sally was not afraid of storms, but--well--and she would look up to find Horry staring at her as if he wanted to tell her something. "What is it, Horry?" she would ask, smiling. Horry would be distinctly embarrassed. He always was: and he always made the same reply. "N--no--noth--th-thing, S--S--Sally," he would say, with a sigh. "I--i--it's n--n--noth--th--thing, o--only I h--h--hate t--to s--s--see you s--so b--b--both--thered ab--b--b--bout an--n--nyth--th--thing. Ch--er--n--n--nob--body's wo--worth it." That was as much as she could get out of him, although, to tell the truth, she did not try very hard. She only asked her question for his sake, he seemed to want so much to tell something. It did not occur to her that what Horry wanted to say he wanted to say for her sake; and it was for her sake that he did not say it, although it trembled on the very tip of his tongue. Perhaps it trembled too much. Perhaps, if he had found speaking an easier matter, he would have told what he seemed to be on the point of telling. Toward the last of August, Henrietta and Dick came back. Henrietta, of course, did not have much time, but she did manage to come and see Sally at the office, one afternoon, on which occasion she completely upset the business of John Hazen, Inc., and all the members of the firm, both present and prospective, fluttered about her and gave her their undivided attention. Naturally, this state of affairs pleased Henrietta, but it embarrassed her, too, for you can't--or a girl who has been recently married can't--speak out freely concerning the secrets which burden her bosom before two unmarried young fellows,--not that the fact of their being unmarried made any difference, of course,--but before two young fellows whom she had never seen before in her life. But Henrietta made an effort to see Sally alone, and on the occasion of that effort, which was successful, she talked a steady stream about Dick, to all of which Sally assented with a smile and with as much enthusiasm as even Henrietta could wish. "And, you know, Sally," she said at the end of this eulogium--and otherwise, "you know, we are in a difficulty now. It is not a very great difficulty and yet it is, too. We don't know where to live." "How terrible!" said Sally.